a charge of disappointment

My little family and I had the privilege of eating at friends' houses two different nights in the past week. Super, duper casual get-togethers, which are by far the best kind. Yoga pants, jeans and tee shirts abounded. Jambalaya and roasted veggies one night, chicken bow tie cream pasta and a salad the other night. Both really super, yummy meals.

Being hosted is just a grand ol' gift to receive (and really to give, as well, as a friend recently pointed out). I'm going to write more about this whole host/guest thing soon - I get to do the host thing a lot and the guest thing sometimes, and they are treasures. And sometimes obstacle courses.

But before I get to that, I wanted to share a moment - for all eight of my readers out there - but more for my children, you know, when they're 20 and allowed to read this.

Dear Ada Bee, Eason and Collins:

(If, heavens, there ends up one day being another one of you, dear him or her too)

Last night, we went to some friends' house. They are dear friends of ours and their children dear friends of yours. And we were blessed that some other favorite friends got to come as well.

These people make us laugh, laugh at us, and occasionally even help us recognize problems in our lives. They feed us, eat our food, and pray with and for us.

The key, for this moment, is that they all worship with us on Sunday mornings.

We were sitting around. On the floor. Playing with tired babies. Drinking wine. The idea of getting all 43 children dressed and ready for church this morning was not on our top ten list of fun things to do.

One or two of us saw an email. (these darn brilliant phones).

And it said that church might be canceled today due to icy roads.

And our friend Will led the charge of disappointment. He didn't want to get up and get his child dressed anymore than the rest of us, but dedgomit, he wanted to worship. He'd go through ice and snow and all sorts of other pains in the behind so that he could be with his fellow parishioners singing the praises of our God and King. Cancel church! Never!

We got in the car, little ones, and told you that church might be canceled. And there was wailing and gnashing of teeth from the backseat.

My dear little people, know what a gift you have. Know that weekly worship with people you love is amazing. Know that not wanting an excuse not to go to church is fantastic. Know that having friends that want to worship with you is a blessing.
Awesome, even. You are blessed, and your father and I are blessed.

And now I must wake you all, get you polished up (or at least dusted off), in the car, and off to church, which has not been canceled, because the ice has held off - and yes, a not-so-little-part of me believes that it held off because of a little bit of moaning that went on in central mississippi last night.

Amen! Hallelujah! Adios!